A BATTLE can be won or lost on how the issue in a dispute is framed. In the aftermath of the 26th and 27th Amendments to the Constitution, different concepts can be invoked to make sense of the reality around us.
The challenge, however, is that in framing an issue, one ought to be able to grasp the core of what is at stake. Otherwise, it can be that the two sides take positions and dig in their heels, without coming close to addressing the central issue. There is a need, therefore, to explore the dichotomy that best explains and captures the essence of what exactly it is that divides the proponents (or apologists) of the amendments from those who bemoan them.
Military vs civilians: Who gets to decide the important questions of policy — the military or the civilians? — remains a central issue of governance in Pakistan. There has been and remains a disbalance. No one disputes it. The civilians who enjoy marginal powers, and momentary protections, boastfully see themselves as ‘realists’, presenting the governance structure as a ‘hybrid regime’, and adding alongside, with much emphasis, that there is nothing wrong with it.
Most say that this is how things are, which is hard to dispute. A few go further, and say that this is how it should be. Civilians are riven with factions; the military has discipline. If a top-down strictly regimented governance structure is put in place, orders are executed in a timely fashion, efficiency increases and policies are given effect. Or so the fiction goes.
Pushing back on this narrative does not attain much. Those who are committed to their belief in the inherent superiority of the military as an institution best placed to govern, will, time and again, find scapegoats in civilians. It is because of the latter, the thinking goes, that the establishment’s rule does not translate into the success it promises, notwithstanding repeated experiments on this front.
The elite have always ruled the roost. What is actually different after the amendments?
Elite vs the many: In recent times, phrases like ‘elite capture’ are liberally thrown around, and rightly so. It has been an ongoing debate since at least Plato: whether to place a premium on the expertise of the few, or on the wisdom of the crowd? Pakistan has repeatedly erred on the side of the few.
In Pakistan, the elite are those who rise in the defence and civilian bureaucracies, using the archaic and abusive structures of governance to exert influence and power. The former of the two bureaucracies also co-opts politicians, who are already influential and affluent, often due to their lineage. They have landholdings or otherwise operate as local hegemons. Some of them may also have credentials to showcase.
The framework gives us a truism that the elite are in control in Pakistan, much like the truism that the civilian-military relationship is far from balanced — but nothing more. What is missing is the framework through which we can answer why this is wrong. The elite have always ruled the roost. What is actually different after the amendments?
Venerating men vs protection from those with a need to be venerated: Over time, there has been a realisation that we need a system of governance where one man or a few men do not usurp decision-making. That efforts have to be made actively to disperse power, to protect the people from the whims of a few; and to also be able to benefit from the minds and experiences of the many.
As apologists of the amendments rightly point out, this is not, or has not been, a default position through history. The default has been that the highly ambitious or a lucky few, or both, have governed, in their absolute discretion, deciding the fate of the many, often on the basis of whim.
To be able to live a life of dignity, where one is not at the mercy of those who find themselves in power, people came up with a concept that there ought to be a rule of law and not of men. By ‘rule of law’ is meant neutrality, impartiality and fairness in treatment; that, certain rights, in most situations, are to be enjoyed by all, without it being a charity, concession or a favour from the one in power. With the recent amendments, however, we can sense that the rule of men can be through laws.
What is of essence, then, is that the law has to protect the many from those who seek to be above the law, who, by virtue of their accomplishments, self-belief or just mere delusion consider themselves as deserving of a status not to be accorded to any other. With that higher status comes the hubris to unilaterally decide who amongst the people is to be blessed while others are shunned. But for the rest of us, not so inclined or lucky, there has to be an opportunity still to live a life of dignity, without needing to bow before any man, whatever his claim to fame.
In other words, the laws which had been conceptualised as a shield for the people — even if highly deficient and ineffective — are now wielded as a sword by those in power. With these amendments, the casualty is the aspiration that we were to work out a system that allowed us not to bow before another man. That we were to move towards making available to us forums where, when our dignity is trampled upon, we can claim that we are being wronged, and hope that in this world too, there would be recourse. And this is, essentially, the primary issue at stake, that bowing before power has now been mandated by law.
The writer is a lawyer based in Islamabad. The opinions in this article are his own and not necessarily those of his firm.
Published in Dawn, December 12th, 2025
